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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28328133">Ring, Little Bells</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ageha_nacht/pseuds/ageha_nacht'>ageha_nacht</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales of Symphonia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, But no one dies, Christmas, Eventual Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, i went through fifty ideas until jingle jangle said let there be light, love u brynn, some minor suicidal ideations because this is Zelos we're talking about</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:53:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28328133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ageha_nacht/pseuds/ageha_nacht</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When rumors of a craftsman whose gifts can grant things such as happiness and hope, Zelos finds himself a little more than sceptical but very curious as these myths seem to have some root in facts. </p><p>However, nothing is ever that simple.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lloyd Irving/Zelos Wilder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ring, Little Bells</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzpeach/gifts">fuzzpeach</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Merry Christmas Brynn! I'm your secret santa! This fic was written for a secret santa exchange in the Zelloyd discord server and was probably the most daunting thing I've ever written because I am not a Zelloyd centric writer. I will be honest, I sincerely thought I wouldn't get this done on time because none of the concepts I created stuck but then suddenly, inspiration struck and I went crazy. One of the suggested prompts was a Ghibli AU, but I've never been one to go the easy out so I basically created my own Ghibli Christmas story premise for the sake of fic. Hopefully I'll be able to capture the whimsical magic of these films as this story progresses.</p><p>Brynn! Thank for being so lovely and wonderful and a fabulous friend! I hope this story is something you'll enjoy. I have no idea how many chapters this will be.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyone wants a perfect ending even though they don’t exist. A picturesque story where you find love and happiness, blessed by someone else’s magic (how stupid is it that the magic isn’t even yours?), and suddenly you achieve everything you’ve ever wanted and more. It’s all bullshit. </p><p>Zelos Wilder knows that better than anyone.</p><p>Yet what should have been a normal time had proven to contain little shifts in the norm that weren’t there before. There had been rumors turned to fairy tales floating through the streets of Meltokio about a craftsman whose creations carried magic not found anywhere on Tethe’alla. Usually, Zelos wouldn’t care about something like that. Fairy tales are—as stated—bullshit, but apparently this particular legend only resurfaced every several decades or so. Yet last time it had been brought up had been so long ago, it faded into nothing more than a thing mothers told their children so that they’ll behave all year or a story for bards to tell the masses, much like now. At least that’s what Zelos had been told by his hunnies at the latest parties celebrating the season. </p><p>But all legends are born from facts twisted to suit someone’s needs. It had been notable that this man had never actually been referred to as a myth until recently and there was apparently legitimate proof that he was real once upon a time. In fact his myth status was apparently borne from how it’s been half a century since he’s been seen which, okay, there are few species that could live that long and not change. He’ll bite on that logic.</p><p>He knows the upper crusts won’t have someone who can tell the story so he decides to be generous and grace the common district with his presence. Entertainment like this doesn’t come often so Zelos supposes he should follow the fad until the season dries out (he’s always been very good at going with the flow).</p><p>The common district is truly much more lively than any of the noble districts. Perhaps because there’s less pretense here, the people can enjoy themselves better. If he were a bit less hollow and a bit warmer, Zelos thinks he would love to come down here on the regular, singing and dancing with the masses. But as it stands he doesn’t belong here (or anywhere for that matter).</p><p>He finds what he’s looking for in the form of a small crowd of children and parents gathered around a pretty female bard he’s seen a few times before. Her voice was quite wonderful from what he remembered and so were her stories according to the rumors.</p><p>“Excuse me,” he says, turning on his facade. Turning it on is as easy as breathing, only a switch away that he’s learned to flip at will. His “Master Zelos” persona is as perfect as it is tiresome. “I couldn’t help but overhear you telling all these kiddies a wonderful story. Do ya mind if I listen too?” </p><p>He’s sure at one point he must have looked like these children who look at him as if <i>he’s</i> the subject of this tale, all wide-eyed and full of wonder. It’s not everyday the Great Zelos Wilder visits this part of town. Maybe he could blame it on the season, just this once, but had he been a little more humble, those looks would feel him with pride but in truth they make him want to hide.</p><p>“Please, Master Zelos, it would be an honor if you joined us,” the woman stated. A truly lovely bard she is now that he’s gotten a good look at her. With eyes like spring and a calming smile, had this been a normal day he would love to bring her back with him. Unfortunately, he’s got better priorities than to entertain his image so instead he smiled and gave her a nod.</p><p>She began again, voice flowing like water as she wove a tale of magic and hope. Of how this man brought joy to those in a dying world through his creations, restoring light in a way that was lost when they were seemingly forsaken by Martel. It was sad yet it was hauntingly beautiful, much like how Mylene had been. In the crevice of his mind he wonders if his mother ever had a story like this growing up but quickly forced it down. Now’s not the time for that. </p><p>Something called out to him as he listened. Maybe it was the bit about being granted happiness when you receive a gift from this dude. Maybe it was the bit about how he brought hope to a world wrought with sadness. The way people talked about him as though he were a god or an angel granting people reprieve in their hearts and as sickening as it is to Zelos, he knows that if this really had been true then he could possibly, finally, be the brother Seles needs. A wish like his could be granted by such magic possibly. Maybe for once in his life, he could finally grant her true happiness with such magic.</p><p>(Magic not his own. He never said <i>he too</i> wasn’t bullshit like those fairy tales.)</p><p>He would laugh at himself if his Master Zelos switch wasn’t on. Even after everything he still has traces of that naive, soft-hearted boy wishing for something so beautiful and so perfect that he could never obtain. He hates it so much. The chill in his own black-ice heart is setting in so much deeper thanks to the chill of the outside and it keeps mingling with the prospect of finally shattering with these memories resurfacing. </p><p>The bard finishes her tale with a round of applause and because it’s a giving season Zelos leaves some gald for her. </p><p>“Thanks for sharing!” He starts, “That was a beautiful story. Perfect for the season.”</p><p>He’s ready to leave when he hears her call back to him. “An extra moment of your time, Master Zelos,” she says.</p><p>It really must be the season because rather than lie, he entertains her request, “Yes, Hunny?”</p><p>She reaches into her cloak and hands him a little trinket he’s only seen in picture books in a time he could only pretend was happy. No one in Meltokio has the skill to craft something as intricate as this.</p><p>“Judging by your expression, you know what this is. My grandmother received this music box from that man many years ago. She’s long since passed from this world but I would like you to have it. Unfortunately, we lost the key. Should you pursue him, he may make a new key.”</p><p>Deep red and gold dance across this little oblong trinket that’s prettier than any jewel or jewelry box he’s ever seen. This would seem a pretty penny on craftsmanship alone. “Why would you give this to me?” He asks. He can’t fathom why anyone would give him something so… important. He can practically see the sentiment rolling off this thing in waves.</p><p>“Because it’s the season of giving. And you look like you could use it more than myself. My grandmother would want someone like you to have it.”</p><p>“High class and dashing?” He winks. She chuckles and shakes her head.</p><p>“Lost and in need of some hope. I hope it leads you to where you need to. And remember: every fairy tale and every fable begins as history.”</p>
<hr/><p>He’s crazy for buying into these childish fantasies, but in the end curiosity won out. Days upon days, he eyed that little music box on his vanity. The storybooks once long packed away sat on the desk in his office, hoping to find some form of match in the item. In theory everyone knows what these things are. But in practice, it’s something that can probably only be done by a dwarf, but they went extinct in Tethe’alla ages ago. </p><p>Still, something about that music box bothered him until finally he caved and went to the library. It’s as good a place as any to start if he’s going to obsess.</p><p>“Master Zelos,” the librarian, as old and kind of smarmy as ever, greeted him like he was a most valued guest at an inn. “I had no idea you’d be visiting us! If I had known, I would have prepared a proper greeting.”</p><p>Turning on his most charming persona, he smiles. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’m kinda here incognito anyway.”</p><p>This caught the librarian’s attention and it should. Wherever Zelos went, he came with a crowd and seldom to the library alone if at all. His school years had seen the most of his presence here anyway. Nowadays he only comes if someone else needs a favor.</p><p>“I’m looking for everything you have on that Magic Craftsman myth. I’m planning on doing something special for a lucky lady and thought it’d give me ideas, y’know?” </p><p>If they were surprised, they didn’t show it. Let the librarian think what they may about that anyway, Zelos knows exactly why he said it like that. Word will travel quickly so long as the right people are nearby.</p><p>“Right this way, sir.”</p><p>Hours later (when did the sun get so low?) Zelos leaves the library empty handed and annoyed. Children’s books, hymns, and fairy tales of the same tale that differ by region all led him to dead end after dead end. Each winding road leading him on until he came up short every. Single. Time. He should have figured something like this would be treated more as fiction, but he couldn’t shake the words of the bard and the feeling that it was more fact than not. It’s stupid, truly. But there has to be another lead. Believe what one may, but if Zelos Wilder wants something he’ll spare no expense or resource. Ultimately, he always gets what he wants.</p><p>And like he planned, that little tidbit about a special lady had stirred the grapevines and less than two days later he’s got as many resources as he does women all over him. It’s fortunate he was good at multitasking. He manages both the crowds and the tips with a grace that makes even himself proud. Unfortunately, many of those tips led to even more dead ends or brought him right back to where he started. He’s about ready to give up and hit up his favorite jewelers until he gets a letter that’s <i>very</i> different from all the others.</p><p>Inconspicuous in a simple, pretty blue envelope with no scent reads on the cover:</p><p>
  <i>May this letter find you well, here is how you can find him. C.B.</i>
</p><p>That’s… a little ominous. But in the envelope is a map for a place in the country that he’s sure he vaguely recognizes and a blueprint for a trinket he’s never seen before and maybe, he thinks, he should consider it a lead. There’s still a few weeks until Martel Night which means plenty of time to leave and check out if this tip is legitimate and come back if it isn’t. </p>
<hr/><p>He heads out first thing in the morning a week later, packed with food and clothes and his sword and shield. You never know what could happen in the boondocks. He tells Sebastian not to wait up, and if he’s not back by then to don’t bother searching. If he’s lucky, maybe he’ll get <i>his</i> gift if this whole thing is a bust. He has to chuckle at that. Mirthless as he is, he can make a joke or two. He’s not lucky enough to get what he wants, anyway. And besides, this is all for Seles. He doesn’t factor into this equation one bit.</p><p>The first couple of days pass without incident and the inns he stayed at treat him like a celebrity. It was on the third day when things started getting weird. After getting directions that took him to a wood warned against by locals, Zelos thinks that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t a good idea. Especially after he couldn’t <i>fly over it</i> for whatever reason. There’s something seriously off about this place. It’s unnatural how the trees bend and the barks look as thought they’ll hold laughing faces if you look for too long. The leaves are somehow still green even though it’s the dead of winter and <i>stupidly cold</i>. How he wished he left this year. The story Sebastian would tell him and Seles in simpler times about a pretty little girl dressed in a red cap being tricked by a big bad wolf flashed across his mind more than a few times. Usually he would be the wolf as they acted this story out in the playroom, but right now he feels very much like the red capped girl with his red hair. It’s almost perfect, really. Maybe a wolf really will appear here and put him out of his misery. He thinks he might see shadows as the scenery darkens the deeper he goes. </p><p>The sound of bells—twinkling little things—fill his ears and head at some point. How long has he been riding through here? He can’t even tell where the sun is anymore. But the bells keep getting louder so he follows them, hoping to find his way out. If he ever finds his way out.</p><p>(He does. Maybe he's a little relieved because that place was creepy.) </p><p>When he finally makes it out of the woods, Zelos has to wonder if he was even still in Tethe’alla. This looked nothing like any of the landscape in the country and he’s been through there enough times to know. He keeps on riding down the path before him until he finally makes it to a little hut looking a little more than abandoned. He shudders. If someone lives here, it surely isn’t some craftsman. Maybe some squatters, but no craftsman. Still, he’s come this far. Maybe they could point him in the right direction.</p><p>The little hut is dark and small when Zelos peaks in through the cracks and already He wants to leave. He shouldn’t have come here. He should have gotten Seles some jewels like last year and called it a night, but curse his own sentimental heart. He wanted, just maybe, possibly, to do something for her and make a difference but he was dumb enough to buy into this bullshit because of this damned music box. Pushing the weak-wood door open, he slips through once it’s wide enough to let him in. </p><p>Dark, cold, abandoned. As expected.</p><p>Just when he’s prepared to leave, he hears a creak much deeper in the house. He shouldn’t look back. <i>He shouldn’t look back</i>, but he refuses to leave empty handed so like a fool he continues. That’s when he hears it. The sound of music—those bells—filling his ears and quickly he checks the music box to make sure it didn’t accidentally open (even though it would be impossible). Perhaps that’s what sets everything off because the bells get louder and louder, forming a song he’s never heard. He follows where he thinks it’s coming from, all too curious and hopefully to confirm he’s not as crazy as he feels.</p><p>Everything changes before his eyes as he wanders deeper and deeper until finally it starts looking like a proper living space. Though still dark, the hut is suddenly <i>much larger</i> than the outside would suggest. Winding upward is a staircase that could rival his own manor and the space of the common area is gently lit by lights he’s never seen before working with the fire to create a feeling of <i>home</i> he’s never known. How was this not visible from the entrance? This almost looks like a noble’s parlor which is usually visible from the entrance. Either way, the fireplace gives off a wonderful heat that Zelos is a moth drawn too. He supposes he could take a short break. It’s not breaking and entering if it’s the Great Zelos Wilder. Anyone would be honored to have him in their house under any circumstances like to warm up while looking for some fake craftsman because a bard told him to. </p><p>He sets his coat and scarf on the couch which looks hand-carved, but he can’t quite tell in the dim lighting and sets himself in front of the fire. It’s hypnotic watching the flames dance while the cold is chased from his being. He must be really tired because he swears he sees something like sparkles and then shapes forming in the fire. Jumping back, he blinks a few times but only sees normal flames. Lovely. The cold has him hallucinating now. All the more reason to remember to get out of dodge early next time (should there be one).</p><p>Taking a few steadying breaths, Zelos resumes his initial position. This really is a cozy little spot. If only he weren’t on a mission, he’d ask whoever owns this place if he could stick around for a while. So caught up in that thought he was, however, that he failed to notice the creaking resumed and that there was someone approaching him until they spoke.</p><p>“Who are you?” they said.</p><p>Years of combat training didn’t prepare him for this. Even as he draws his sword and takes a defensive stance, he was not prepared for this at all even though this night had already proven to be full of surprises. A young man around his age with the warmest pair of brown eyes he’s ever seen and dressed in the same deep red as his music box greets his eyes. He looks neither scared nor alarmed, just curious as he assesses Zelos. </p><p>“Can I help you? We normally don’t get visitors this late,” he asked. </p><p>He didn’t sound like he was some crusty old dude in disguise so that immediate theory was out the immediate window. Quickly, Zelos flips his switch and smiles.</p><p>“Heya! I’m looking for someone and was told he lived in this area. I’d like to commission a gift.”</p><p>Those brown eyes change from curious to confused before realization dawned in them. How the myriad of emotions crossed them felt too much like the story from the bard, flowing yet beautiful. Zelos needs to pinch himself later for thinking something like that. “Oh! You’re looking for my dad. Sorry, but he’s not here right now. You actually just missed him. He’ll be back sometime next week.”</p><p>It’s the way he said it. A lack of surprise, like this is… normal for him that sets off the alarms in Zelos’s head. Could the story <i>actually</i> be true? Is the craftsman <i>actually</i> real? Magic like this, that exists nowhere in the world, is it real? Hah… call him a skeptic, but he can’t believe it.</p><p>“You mean to tell me that your dad is the Craftsman? Some spirit that grants hope to a dying world? You’re kidding me, right?”</p><p>The guy raises a brow, seemingly confused by his statement. Guess this is a farce.</p><p>“Is that what he’s known as around here? I knew what he did was famous, especially after what happened back home, but not like that.”</p><p>Zelos can’t tell if the scrutinizing gaze is offensive or flattering because once could mean that this guy doesn’t know him or it means that he does. He’s not sure which one he wants, but when the guy supposedly finds what he’s looking for, he smiles again.</p><p>“My dad isn’t a spirit. He’s a dwarf that infuses different types of magic into what he makes. Depending on the magic, some of those gifts can grant little wishes. Nothing too crazy. You said you’re looking to get one, right? I’m still an apprentice, but maybe I can help you with your gift? It’s worth a shot.”</p><p>Okay. Certified weirdo. This is why Zelos didn’t like talking with men. They were all strange—himself included—and this just cements it. Dwarves were extinct in Tethe’alla, for starters and this guy looked as human as him. Either this guy is a great actor, or just crazy. He’s leaning a little more towards the latter every second.</p><p>“The name’s Lloyd Irving, by the way. Nice to meet you…”</p><p>“Zelos. Zelos Wilder.”</p><p>The way Lloyd’s smile lit up his face suddenly made Zelos feel as though he was in over his head. And maybe he was for entertaining this lunatic.</p>
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